Child Support
by MadMar
Summary: Raoul and Christine discuss the role or lack thereof Erik should have in their children's lives. Modern-day, Immortal!Characters. R/C with reference to E/C.


A/N: This is a one-shot, exploring the lives of modern/immortalized Raoul and Christine. It is also meant to be funny. I do not own any of the characters in this phic, except Phillippe II. Christine, Raoul, and Erik belong to Gaston Leroux. Charles belongs to Susan Kay. Pierre belongs to Fredrick Forsyth. "Aria-Melody" belongs to whichever phangirl wants to claim her.

* * *

"Thank God no one else is here," Raoul de Chagny muttered as he trudged behind his wife onto the sand of the beach.

"Don't be like that, honey," Christine chided, stopping and turning to face him.

Raoul stopped and looked at the small army of "the kids". There were three of them—all boys. Charles, Pierre, and Philippe de Chagny all looked so different it was impossible to think they were brothers at first glance. A small smile crept over Raoul's lips. For all he mumbled, he loved each of the boys as his own. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I know. Good Lord, I've gotten antisocial since we've moved out here."

Christine quirked an eyebrow and began walking off. "We didn't _have_ to move out here, you know."

Raoul glowered. "Yes, we did. You know full well why we did. Don't just walk off, Christine. We have to talk about it sometime."

Christine stopped and turned to face Raoul. Her smile was knowing, pitying, and her eyes gentle. Still. She had that look of determination that told Raoul that he likely wouldn't win this argument. But he'd never know if he didn't try.

"Christine, look, I love the boys. All of them. I know Pierre and I had a rough patch back in the beginning, but I'm pretty sure that he's done trying to prove that I was shot in the—"

"So what's the point, then, Raoul?"

Raoul sighed and they made their way to a spot on the beach to set up their chairs. He was quiet for a moment, pretending to focus intently on staking the beach umbrella. Then, finally, he couldn't help himself.

"I think Erik should pay child support."

Christine, who was holding onto the picnic basket, dropped it in surprise and a few sodas tumbled out. Raoul bent down to help her clean up. An embarrassed blush crept over his still-boyishly handsome features. He met Christine's eye. He'd gotten her attention.

"Child support? Do you really think that's such a good idea, Raoul? I mean… We can't just _demand_ that he help pay for kids he probably doesn't even know exist. Besides, what if he wants to be part of the boys' lives? Are they supposed to call him Uncle Erik or would we actually _tell_ Charles and Pierre who their biological father is?"

Raoul sighed and stood up, toeing the sand awkwardly as he did. "No… I guess not. But you don't think they know by now? I mean, our copies of the Kay and Forsyth novels are on the book shelf. And Charles is a voracious little reader. I'm pretty sure that—if he hasn't already read them—he will. And he'd probably make the connections. And Pierre acts like he _knows_, Christine. I think he does…"

"You _are_ paranoid. Relax, honey, please." Christine smiled and then, casting her eyes out at the water, snapped, "Charles! Philippe! Stop pretending to drown your brother this instant!"

She didn't face Raoul until she saw Pierre surface and heard his loud gasp for breath. She smiled fondly at him and shook her head. Raoul was still waiting. Christine groaned softly as she sank into a beach chair; Raoul sat in the chair beside her and took her hand gently in his, stroking it lovingly.

"Christine, I'm sorry I sound paranoid. But I'm so sick of spin-off kids showing up on our doorstep, claiming to be your love-children with Erik. The phans accept Charles and Webber seems to support Pierre's existence. So, I'm not going to complain about them. But what about the other kids? Not two nights ago, some sixteen year old girl named Aria-Melody came to our door! For pity's sake, Christine! Aria-Melody? No sensible person names their kid Aria-Melody. Not even Erik—"

"You have to admit she was sweet, Raoul…"

"Sweet? Christine, she called me "The Imposter" and "The Fop". That's hardly endearing. And I'm scared that she and the other Mary-Sue children—"

"None of my children are Mary Sues!" Christine stood up, indignant. "How could you say such a mean thing?"

Raoul's face softened and he stood up, putting a comforting and apologetic arm around Christine's shoulders. "Shh… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Christine. I misspoke."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears. But she smiled at the sincerity in his voice and face. She hugged his arms to her tightly. She kissed his hand.

"It's okay. I know what you mean. One spin-off kid kept trying to convince Philippe that he couldn't possibly be your kid. That made me so… so _angry_. I can't stand being angry at my supposed kids. I want to be able to take them all in and take care of them and love them, but… I just…" Christine sighed expressively.

Raoul nodded solemnly. "I know what you mean. It makes life hard for our family. I mean…" Raoul blushed a little and bit his lip. "Philippe is our only biological kid together. I don't blame Charles and Pierre for it, but I think the spin off kids are having some sort of adverse effect on _us_."

"Maybe…" Christine looked up at him, smiled shyly and moved Raoul's hands to her abdomen. "Maybe not."

Raoul smiled slowly and kissed the top of his wife's head. "Oh, Christine! Are you serious? Are you--?"

"Six weeks. I was going to tell you the other night, but that Aria-Melody visit ruined the opportunity."

Suddenly, all thoughts of Erik paying child support, all irritation and exasperation with the spin off children, every negative thought fled. Raoul scooped Christine up into his arms and kissed her passionately, excitedly. It would have been perfect except…

"Dad, Philippe and Pierre are trying to drown each other again!"

Raoul released his wife and waded into the sea to separate his sons. Boys would be boys, after all. Everything would be perfect, Raoul reasoned, if Christine had a daughter. At least one of their kids wouldn't roughhouse the others to death.


End file.
